


Hello Baby

by Azelto



Category: Hello Dolly! (1969)
Genre: F/M, Mpreg, also a hint of omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azelto/pseuds/Azelto
Summary: Cornelius and Irene are expecting their first child. Only, it's not Irene who is pregnant...





	Hello Baby

It was the third time this week that Cornelius had been sick. He had got up out of bed and thrown up in the bathroom, Irene holding him and rubbing his back to soothe him. Each time this happened, he would feel better by the afternoon, only to be sick again a few days later.

Irene was growing more concerned about him every day, so in the end she took him to see a doctor. And what they found out at the appointment was enough to send Cornelius into a state of shock.

“But… but what if I hurt it?” Cornelius said once they had returned home. “What if I move wrong, or lift something…”

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Irene said, taking his arm and leading him up to the bedroom. “I know it’s a surprise for both of us, but remember what the doctor said? All you have to do is relax, avoid stress as much as possible. It’s funny, I always thought I would be the one in your position. Given how unusual it is… perhaps it means you’re a special case.”

Cornelius let out a whimper as Irene opened the bedroom door and guided him down onto the bed, making sure he was lying on his side. “I felt my body changing over the past few weeks, I don’t quite know how to explain… Do we have to do this? It’ll hurt...”

“Yes, we do,” Irene took the bottle of oil out of the paper bag and started to unscrew the lid. “The baby has to come out somehow, doesn’t it? Without the prep it’ll hurt a lot more.”

Without warning, Cornelius started to cry. “I don’t want to! I don’t want to do it…”

“Come on, I’m only going to put one finger in. One finger, and then you can have a treat. You don’t want the baby to get stuck, do you?”

Saying nothing more in response, Cornelius continued to cry like a child. Irene concluded that he was probably having mood swings because of his condition. With careful hands she undid his belt and tugged off his trousers and drawers. Once she had spread his cheeks, she couldn’t help noticing how adorable and innocent the hole in between them looked.

Irene dipped her index finger in the oil and kept a hold on Cornelius’s hip with her other hand. He was trembling and sobbing but she knew that if she didn’t prep him, he would encounter many more problems when he went into labour. She poked the tip of her finger into the hole.

“Owww!” Cornelius shuddered. “It hurts! Irene, it hu-uurts!”

“That’s because you’re tense. If you relax your muscles it’ll hurt a lot less. That’s it, take deep breaths.”

Cornelius’s chest heaved as he tried to calm down. And then to Irene’s amazement he started sucking his thumb like a child. But she had to admit that he looked adorable when doing so.

When he appeared to have calmed down enough, Irene probed the rest of her finger into his hole. She rummaged around inside him, trying to stretch him out as much as she could without hurting him.

“Uhhh…” Cornelius whined.

“How does it feel?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, if we do this every day, eventually it’ll get easier for you.” Concluding that this was enough, Irene removed her finger. “Good, you did so well. Want me to give you a treat now?”

He knew what she meant by ‘treat’, of course. She would use the term when he was stressed about something and needed help to calm down. “But what if it makes me pregnant again?”

“Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.” Irene gave one of his buttocks a light squeeze. “As long as one baby is inside you, you can’t have another. Do you want to do it the usual way?”

They made love for the next couple of hours, with Irene on top and riding Cornelius, just as he liked it. The few times he had tried to go on top, he had become overwhelmed and forgot what to do. Irene speculated that maybe her continuous topping was what had caused this unusual situation in the first place.

It was decided that Irene would take over Cornelius’s job as Mr Vandergelder’s company partner, while Cornelius would stay at home and try to rest. Over the next few weeks, Cornelius would stand in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom each morning, to see if his stomach had begun to grow. And after a while the bump became more noticeable, starting out as a slight bulge in his abdomen.

In the evenings after she had come home from work, Irene would hug Cornelius from behind and run her hands over his bump. “How amazing you are,” she would whisper, “carrying our child for me like this. I know you’ll take such good care of it when it comes.”

As his bump grew, Cornelius began to develop red stretch marks on his skin. He was self-conscious about them at first, until Irene saw them and covered them with kisses. “So pretty for me, such a sweet colour,” she murmured as she ran her fingers along them. “The same shade of red as your lips. These patterns are like art on your body.”

Sometimes Cornelius would get cravings for certain foods, the sort of things he would never normally enjoy, like gherkins or raw cabbage. These cravings were so intense that he would start crying and Irene would have to rush out to buy whatever it was he needed. But to her, the look of relief on his face once he had eaten it was more than worth the hassle. On one occasion when Irene had given him some peanuts after he had been craving them for more than two hours, the face he made when he put them in his mouth was indistinguishable from his expression when he orgasmed.

Because Cornelius was too squeamish to do it himself, it was Irene who had to prep him every evening, stretching him wider and wider until he would be loose enough to be able to give birth. He didn’t like the feeling at all; it hurt quite a bit and made him feel uncomfortable. Each day he would dread having to be prepped, but then he always had Irene’s treats to look forward to afterwards.

And then there was also the pain. The cramps and aches that plagued him throughout all hours of the day. This, along with his mood swings, meant that Cornelius now cried on a regular basis.

One night while they were in bed together, almost five months down the line, he told Irene about how much pain he was in. As soon as he spoke, tears began to well up in his eyes and fall down his cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” Irene held him in her arms, letting him sob into her chest. “I can’t imagine how it must feel. You’re sacrificing so much to bring a child into the world. You’re brave, strong, and more beautiful than I ever could have imagined my soulmate to be. It feels like I love you more with every passing day.”

All Cornelius could do in response was to wail and sob even more, his body shaking and his face wet with tears. Irene rubbed his back and kissed his hair, whispering reassurances all the while.

In the evenings the two of them would go for a walk together around the town and neighbouring countryside. Cornelius was too self-conscious to go outside by himself in his present condition, but Irene insisted that the fresh air and exercise would do him good and so she would always accompany him, holding his hand and reassuring him if he thought other people were staring. When he was approaching his due date he would wear baggy clothes, to conceal how large his bump had grown. Often as they walked he would clutch his bump with one hand, his closeness to the baby helping to calm him if he became anxious.

It was on one particular evening around three days before his due date that they were walking through a wooded area about a mile away from their house when Cornelius started to feel an intense need to use the bathroom. Since the baby had grown so big, it was now pressing on his bladder and so these needs came quite frequently. He realised he should have gone to the bathroom before they left the house. There did exist the possibility of him informing Irene of his need and then going behind a tree, but even the thought of doing so was enough to make him flush a deep shade of red. He had never before peed anywhere that wasn’t a toilet. And despite Irene being the person he trusted most in the world, he didn’t think he would be able to go if there was a chance that she would hear him. He concluded that the best thing to do was to try and hold it until he got back.

This proved to be more than a little difficult. If Irene stopped to look at a particular bird or flower, Cornelius would squirm around while her head was turned, pressing his thighs together and grabbing himself with his hands. Now that he had the urge, he could not stop imagining what it would feel like to pee. He couldn’t wait until they got home, when he would run up to the bathroom (or at least, walk as fast as his bump would allow him to), unzip and have the most relieving pee of his life. His hands trembled from the anticipation alone. But he couldn’t tell Irene to hurry back, or she might get suspicious of his need.

Then all of a sudden his need was overtaken by a sharp pain in his lower stomach. He squeezed Irene’s hand and cried out, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Irene asked. “Are you going into labour?”

Cornelius was about to respond when he felt something wet soaking his trousers. He heard the sound of liquid dripping onto the ground and realised that he was wetting himself. Now he started to cry for real; he was going into labour outside, away from the safety of his house, and he had peed his pants in front of Irene. The pain persisted, and he felt his hole start to loosen in response.

“Come here,” Irene took him in her arms and guided him to sit against a thick-trunked tree. “Let me take care of you. You just have to relax, and push.”

The next few hours were filled with a level of pain that Cornelius had never even imagined he would experience. Irene pulled down his trousers and told him to push, breathe, then push again. He was crying out in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks, fists clenched in the soil and legs kicking at thin air.

“Push, Cornelius, push!” Irene kept on saying, and he pushed as hard as he could for what felt like hours on end.

The baby’s head was the most difficult part; pushing it felt like he was being split in two, and for once he was glad that Irene had prepped him every day since they had found out. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this much pain in his life, but once he had pushed the head out, the rest of the baby was easy in comparison.

As soon as she felt that she could leave him on his own, Irene had ran off to call for help. Luckily the nearest house was not all that far away, and the people there managed send for the doctor and the midwife.

After a long night with little sleep, Cornelius and Irene returned home with a healthy baby boy. Cornelius couldn’t believe how such a beautiful child had lived inside him for nine whole months. The baby was soft, and round, and warm to cuddle. Now he wanted nothing more than to care for him, and give him all the love in the world to make him grow up to be kind and strong.

It took a week for them to decide on a name, but eventually they decided to name the baby Francis. And whenever their friends or family came to visit to see him, they felt no doubt about the fact that he was loved.


End file.
